


Heart on Fire

by Soprano



Series: Never Too Late [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adult Figure Skating, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11774028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soprano/pseuds/Soprano
Summary: Victor Nikiforov, an international pop rock star, decides to pursue a dream he'd been denied as a child and enters the world of adult figure skating.This endeavor gives him not only new inspiration and meaning in life, but also a significant other - his coach and partner in every way, Katsuki Yuuri.Together they explore their new relationship, deal with a personal tragedy, learn more about each other's past, and take the next step in Victor's career.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for joining me in the sequel.  
> Please, be warned that this contains a bit more angst than the first part, though not in the relationship department. I debated for a long time whether to tag it in more detail so that people can avoid the story if it's something that bothers them. It would be a major spoiler for the story though.  
> If you want to know what the angsty bit entails, feel free to contact me in the comments or on [Tumbr](http://faithsoprano.tumblr.com/) for more details.  
> The warnings from the previous work are largely still applicable.
> 
> Some real-life exposition: in adult figure skating competitions, there generally isn't a short program and free skate, but rather just one program. There are, however, two different disciplines - free skate and artistic/dramatic skate. A skater may enter one or both of those disciplines, they are judged separately, and have separate award ceremonies.  
> I tried to keep descriptions of the adult figure skating world as realistic as possible, but my knowledge is inherently limited as it's all based on research and not personal experience, so some of it might be off. I did also take creative license with some parts or filled in things I couldn't properly learn from research, so I apologize if I got anything wrong.  
> Also, I'm going back to past tense in this. I'm just more comfortable writing in past tense. Sorry about the back and forth.

Victor knew that the attention his success at his first figure skating competition was getting was owed almost entirely to his previous fame, but it still felt great to be appreciated for something he’d always dreamed of doing.  
He was also surprisingly glad to see that he wasn’t just getting blind love. He was getting quite a bit of hate too. Not that he enjoyed the hate, but it served to prove that not everyone was simply unthinkingly following him because of his fame. People had watched his performance and formed opinions, good or bad, and expressed them. As much as he appreciated his fans that were happy to support his new career, he also respected those who rejected it.  
Yuuri, however, had a different opinion.  
Though he tried to hide how much it bothered him to see hate for Victor, he couldn’t hide it quite well enough for Victor to not eventually notice.  
“I can handle it, you know,” Victor said one day as he watched Yuuri close his eyes and suppress a groan as yet another former fan left a hateful comment on Victor’s Instagram.  
“I know. It’s...not that.”  
Victor’s interest was peaked, so he turned to face Yuuri, determined to coax the answer out of him, even if it took a while.  
“What is it then?”  
Yuuri was silent for a few moments, but as Victor continued to simply stare, he knew sooner or later, he’d have to succumb to the gentle interrogation.  
“It’s just so...entitled.”  
“Entitled,” Victor repeated, in something between a question and a statement.  
“Well, you don’t owe these people anything, do you?” Yuuri lowered his eyes as he spoke. “You had a career in music, which they liked, but now you have a different career, and they’re acting as though you betrayed them somehow, but you never gave them any promises, you didn’t sign away your life to only ever do one thing. They’re not entitled to anything from you.”  
Victor lowered his head into Yuuri’s lap, looking up at him.  
“Well, a lot of people believe I’m throwing away my musical talent.”  
“You aren’t though. You’re composing. Maybe not what they want to hear, but that’s their problem, not yours.”  
“They don’t really know that though. I haven’t released anything in a while.”  
“Either way, if you didn’t stake, you’d be throwing away a different talent. Don’t they care about that?”  
“Well, they don’t care about that talent.”  
“Precisely my point. They want you to do what they want you to do. Which is, in short, entitled.”  
Victor smiled and ran his hand against Yuuri’s cheek. He thought of how often Yuuri threw his own needs and desires out the window in order to accommodate others, and yet here he was defending Victor against people who thought he owned them something. But Victor didn’t say any of that out loud.  
“Well, aren’t you deep?” he said instead.  
“I have my moments.”  
Yuuri returned the gesture then, touching Victor’s face gently. It was almost too sappy to just lie there, touching each other’s faces, but it felt good, comforting, domestic.  
And then Victor’s eyes lit up, and he looked at Yuuri with excitement and joy.  
“I should release my skate music!” he said, mobilizing, searching for his laptop. “I don’t have a record label, but I can release it on iTunes.” He started typing, searching for information on what he’d need to do to make it work. “I don’t even really need to do any advertising. I’ll just post about it on social media, and whoever wants it can buy it.”  
“That’s...actually a pretty good idea,” Yuuri said, watching in amusement as Victor frantically searched for information, as though it would run away if he slowed down.  
“I’ll release the whole 5-minute piece too. Not that tiny snippet with background noise that people have been stealing off the youtube video.”  
“Do you think it will sell well?” Yuuri asked cautiously, afraid to hurt Victor’s feelings with any unpleasant implications.  
“I don’t really care,” Victor said with a genuine smile. “I just want everyone to see that just because I’m skating now, it doesn’t mean I’ve given up on music.”

It didn’t take Victor long to figure out how to self-publish his song. As predicted, there was quite a bit of interest, both from his old fans, and a few of the new ones he’s gained since his performance.  
What Victor had not quite seen coming, however, was the single hitting #1 on iTunes in it’s first week of sales. It fell off the spot quite quickly, but the fact remained. It had hit #1 once, and that would forever remain in its history.  
Social media was a-buzz with new discussions, and Victor had a few thousand more notifications to look through.  
Though some people remained angry, others, especially the ones who had not previously been aware that Victor’s skating program music was his own, have reconsidered, conceding that Victor’s new passion was also inspiring him musically, so, perhaps, he wasn’t wasting any talents after all.  
For a while, there was a heated debate on fansites and blogs about whether this new style of music was something Victor truly enjoyed writing, and whether he’d ever go back to pop. There were those who still felt betrayed by a change in genre, but a larger section of the fandom concluded that Victor was not obligated to write the same type of music forever, especially considering that his style had fluctuated in the past.  
“You really need to stop reading that,” Yuuri said, as Victor went through yet another topic on a forum.  
“I know,” Victor replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.  
Yuuri sat behind Victor on the bed, wrapping his arms around Victor’s waist and peppering kisses along his neck and shoulders. Yuuri was still a little self-conscious about initiating intimacy as their physical relationship was still very young, and Yuuri hadn’t had much experience in the first place. But this tactic was working, as within minutes Victor closed his laptop in favor of giving Yuuri his undivided attention. 

Later, as they lay in bed, relaxed and sated, Victor rested his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, drawing circles on his chest with the tip of his finger.  
“I can have both, can’t I?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Music and skating. I don’t have to choose. I can have both.”  
Yuuri felt his chest tightening at the words, because Victor almost sounded insecure, and that wasn’t an emotion he openly showed very often.  
“Of course you can have both,” Yuuri said, placing a kiss on the top of Victor’s head. “You can have everything you want.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bronze and Silver refer to skill levels in which skaters are tested and at which they compete.

Victor skated in lazy circles around Yuuri, warming up for the day’s practice.  
“So,” he said, attempting to sound nonchalant, “what next?”  
Yuuri could easily tell that this wasn’t a casual question about immediate plans, but something bigger.  
“What do you want?” he asked, joining Victor in his warm-up.  
“You know I want everything,” Victor said with a shrug, because that really wasn’t a secret. “I’m just not sure what the next step should be. Nationals?”  
Yuuri nodded in contemplation.  
“Probably. Do you want to start with Bronze or keep training and go right into Silver?”  
“Silver, I think.” Victor tossed his hair playfully. “I like silver.”  
Yuuri giggled and started skating in figure 8s. Victor soon mirrored him, and they started skating away from each other, and then meeting in the middle. It was an uncomplicated dance, but it looked no less beautiful for its simplicity. Eventually, they started adding new elements – meeting in the middle, spinning around, then continuing outwards, etching eternity into the ice.  
As they made the dance more and more complex, Victor miscalculated a move and slipped, but Yuuri caught him before he could hit the ice. Victor looked up at Yuuri’s concerned expression and burst into laughter.  
“We should have choreographed it beforehand,” Yuuri said, smiling as he helped Victor straighten out.  
“Where would be the fun in that?”  
“Not falling is fun,” Yuuri countered.  
Victor made a non-committal noise.  
“Yeah, alright, I’ll agree.”  
“Alright.” Yuuri said, putting on his coaching face. “If you’re going to complete at Nationals, we need to practice your jumps a bit more. And we can start trying doubles.” He watched Victor nod, noticing something very suspicious about the way his eyes were lowered. “Victor...” he said in warning. “Have you been practicing doubles without me?”  
“Only a little!” Victor said apologetically. “I’m sorry, Yuuri, I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to see if I could do it.”  
Victor had once promised himself to never hide things from Yuuri, and he really didn’t mean this as some sort of secret project. Sometimes he simply came to the Ice Castle to skate on his own, of which Yuuri was aware, and during one such session he tried doing a double jump out of curiosity, and it sort of spiraled from there.  
Yuuri rolled his eyes at Victor’s guilty look.  
“You know you don’t have to do that. You know you can just tell me what you want to do and I’ll help you.”  
“I know. I didn’t mean to do it behind your back. I just wanted to try, and well...you know I don’t always know when to stop.”  
Yuuri rolled his eyes again, but smiled at Victor nonetheless, to let him know he wasn’t really mad.  
“Fine, okay, show me what you’ve got.”  
Victor skated away, turned around, then skated back to Yuuri, gaining some speed, and finally launching into a double Salchow. Under-rotated and wobbly on the landing, but he didn’t fall or touch down.  
“Well?” He skated up to Yuuri, smiling and failing not to look proud of himself.  
“Well...” Yuuri returned the smile. “I think this is going to be easier than I’d expected.”

That night there was a small explosion on the Internet as Axel, Lutz and Loop upload a video of Yuuri and Victor skating together. The explosion grew as speculations about whether or not they were dating started to gain some heat.  
_Look at how they’re looking at each other._  
_That doesn’t look practiced, they’re just reading each other’s body language. That’s love!_  
_They’re coach and student, they’re supposed to know each other’s skating. You’re reading too much into this._  
_But look at them laughing at the end._  
_They look so happy together!_  
Yuuri stared at the forum thread over Victor’s shoulder. They were sitting up in bed, preparing to go to sleep, but Victor hadn’t been able to get off the Internet for over 2 hours now. Yuuri had had to physically tear his laptop, then his tablet, then his phone, then his own phone out of Victor’s hands to make him eat dinner.  
“Are you bothered by this?” Yuuri finally said.  
“No,” Victor said with a shrug. “I just find it fascinating.” He switched to a different tab and pointed at the screen. “Here’s a frame-by-frame analysis of our eye contact.”  
Yuuri bit his lower lip. He was silent for a while before speaking again.  
“Do you want to keep this a secret? Our relationship?”  
Victor whipped his head around to face Yuuri.  
“No, do you?”  
“No. Though I’m also not sure it’s really something that needs to be announced. But I’m also not sure I want people to keep frame-by-frame analyzing us for the rest of our lives.” It took Yuuri a few seconds to realize what he’d just said, then he looked at Victor in shock, preparing to apologize for his assumptions. But Victor was looking at him with utter adoration, like he’d just said the most beautiful thing in the world. Yuuri exhaled in relief, then giggled happily.  
In that moment, Victor leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, simultaneously snapping a selfie.  
“Like it?” he asked, showing the picture to Yuuri.  
“Yeah.”  
“Mind if I post it?”  
Yuuri considered this for a moment, and though a part of him was very, very hesitant, and maybe almost sort of scared, another part of him just really wanted everyone in the world to know that he was dating Victor Nikiforov.  
“Go ahead,” he said quietly. He watched as Victor uploaded his photo to Instagram, and soon the reactions started coming in. “You know, some people will probably still think we’re really close friends.”  
“Well then,” Victor said with a shrug, “I’ll just have to keep posting pictures of me kissing you until they get the hint.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the next few days, the inn once again got some heavy inflow of customers as the media attention toward Victor and Yuuri that had died down before was now once again in full swing.  
This time it was mostly gossip magazines and websites whose primary focus was the personal lives of celebrities and their loved ones.  
Though none of the initial reveal of their relationship had been planned, Victor and Yuuri were prepared for the arrival of the press after Victor’s Instagram post. They had a general idea of how they wanted to handle the attention, and planned accordingly, largely thanks to Victor’s media training and previous experience.  
They allowed a few photo-ops with just enough physical contact that demonstrated that they were indeed together, but no more than necessary. They answered a few questions together, but then Yuuri excused himself and hid in the back of the inn, while Victor handled the press for a bit longer.  
Yuuri was neither fond of nor good at talking to the press. He’d had his fair share of it when he was competitive, but it was different. Though some reporters had attempted to ask personal questions, most of the press around athletes concentrated on their sport, not on them as people, especially if there was nothing about them that the press and the general public found particularly interesting. Yuuri had never been famous enough to get much attention, and still conversations with the press had often filled him with more anxiety than the competitions.  
Now as he was hiding in his room while Victor was talking to the reporters, Yuuri was having a realization that had been nudging at his mind for some time now, but which he’d actively been pushing away up until this moment.  
Victor was ridiculously, undeniably, internationally famous. Though they’d enjoyed quite a bit of quiet time training in Hasetsu, Victor was still a star. And now that he was back in the spotlight, he would be swamped by reporters at random times, with unpredictable intensity. And Yuuri was...not entirely sure he could handle that.  
He sat on his bed, taking deep breaths, trying to ward off a potential panic attack. He was happy to be with Victor. He wouldn’t give it up for anything, and he was willing to give up a lot in order to keep Victor. But that also meant he would need to brace himself for the media circus that would surround him for...well, the rest of his life, if he was lucky?  
He lost track of time as he sat on his bed, contemplating, wondering, and worrying. He was finally brought back to reality by a quiet creek of the door.  
“Yuuri?” Victor asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you okay?”  
There were a few moments of silence before Yuuri answered, which made Victor nervous.  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Yuuri lied.  
Victor slowly walked in, sat on the bed and hugged Yuuri from behind.  
“Are you worried? About the reporters?”  
Yuuri nodded slightly.  
“It’s just...a bit overwhelming.”  
Panic shot through Victor and he hugged Yuuri tighter. Part of him wanted to just tell Yuuri that everything would be alright, that the press was no big deal, and Yuuri didn’t need to worry about it. But another part of him knew it would be selfish to drag Yuuri into something that could cause him great distress simply because Victor wanted Yuuri by his side no matter what.  
“Are you...” he started, but paused, unsure of how to formulate what he was trying to say. “Are you having doubts?”  
Yuuri turned around so quickly, he almost startled Victor.  
“No,” he said, surprised to realize that he really meant it. “No, I want to be with you. No matter what. I just...I’m scared.”  
Victor nodded. Then took a deep breath, holding it for a beat to compose himself.  
“There are things we could do. About the press, I mean. I had a pretty decent publicist when I lived in LA. There hasn’t been much need for media management while I was training, but I can hire a publicist again, or even a team of them to help us out through this. A lot of people who date celebrities stay out of the press almost completely. I haven’t had much training in this because I’ve always been alone until now, but we could look into learning more about how to handle press as a couple, how to make sure we’re left alone when we need it. We’ll figure it out–” Victor noticed that Yuuri was looking at him with a strange, soft expression. “What?”  
“You’ve always been alone? Before me?”  
Victor opened his mouth, then closed it.  
“I...I’ve had some short-terms...flings, I suppose one might call it. Nothing that would garner future planning.” He kissed Yuuri gently on the forehead. “One might say you are my first.”  
Yuuri blushed right up to his ears.  
“I’m honored,” he said quietly.  
“You should be. It is a great honor.” Victor smiled, the sound of Yuuri’s giggle like a balm for his heart, lifting the weight off his chest. “We’ll figure this out, okay?” he said more seriously. “We’ll find a way to structure our media interactions so they’re more predictable and less overwhelming. I can’t promise that it’ll be easy, but...” He tried not to show it, but he was scared too. Scared that his fame would compromise his relationship with Yuuri, that it would hurt Yuuri, that Yuuri might even think it wasn’t worth the trouble and...  
“It’s okay,” Yuuri said, twining their fingers together. “I can handle some press. And I think hiring a publicist is a good idea.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Victor’s lips. “I’ll always be nervous, Victor. As long as you can live with that, I think I can live with your fame too.”  
Victor practically dropped himself into Yuuri’s arms, going slack against his chest.  
“I’ll be happy to live with every part of you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Victor’s new publicist, Amanda Diaz, arrived 3 days later. To Yuuri’s surprise, she spoke not only English and Russian, but also Japanese, along with several other languages. She immediately got to planning media interference, quickly released an official statement about Victor and Yuuri’s relationship in 3 languages, and planned a photo session and interview with a major magazine. She explained that the latter was the best way to put rumors to rest, as couples who didn’t release anything officially were far more mysterious and interesting, so the media and the Internet paid far more attention to them.  
She also gave them a crash course on public appearances together, and how best to avoid press, on how to spot paparazzi, on what to do when swarmed by reporters.  
For a moment Yuuri panicked as he realized that being swarmed by reporters was now something that could be a regular occurrence in his life, but Amanda soon assured him that media interest was fleeting, and the fact that they were living in a small town in Japan and not somewhere in the vicinity of Hollywood was also quite helpful.  
Amanda was almost contagiously calm and confident, or at least, that was her well-practiced appearance. Her certainty lowered Yuuri’s stress levels significantly. Victor had been right – giving their media interactions structure, having them managed by a professional really did make it all feel a whole lot less overwhelming.  
And once the immediate damage control and scheduled public appearances were done, Victor could go back to training on a regular schedule.

“So,” Yuuri said, watching Victor practice his spins, “you need to get certified.”  
Victor almost slipped, catching himself just in time. Yuuri immediately felt bad for startling Victor, but there was also a small level of satisfaction in catching him by surprise. He knew how much Victor appreciated good surprises.  
“Certified?” Victor asked. “You mean...”  
“I do.” Yuuri smiled. “You might not need it for Nationals, actually, but if you want to go international, and I assume you do, you’ll need to be certified with a federation.”  
Victor had read about certification, but he never went deep enough into the search, afraid that it would only upset him. Now, however, it wasn’t part of a distant dream anymore, but his reality, his future.  
“I’ll be...a certified figure skater,” Victor said, not caring about how stupid it sounded to state the obvious. Sometimes things needed to be said out loud, released into the universe, solidified through verbalization.  
“Well, you need to pass the tests first,” Yuuri reminded, “but yes. You will be.”  
“Do you...know what I need to do?” Victor skated up to the barrier where Yuuri stood just off the ice.  
“Yes, actually.” Yuuri pulled a file out of his bag, handing Victor a print-out. “This is for Silver. You can already do most of it if, so I’m thinking 6 months is enough to perfect all the required elements. Possibly less.”  
Victor was feeling a little weightless, and some part of his mind was wondering about how often he would be so surprised by every new step he took in the sport, and whether he would still react so strongly.  
The print-out Yuuri had handed him had both English and Russian versions, and carried an FFKKR stamp.  
“I wasn’t even sure if they certified adult skaters,” Victor admitted.  
“It’s very recent,” Yuuri said. “You picked a good time to start your career.”  
Victor chuckled, his eyes still glued to the test specifications.  
“What would I do if I’d started earlier?”  
“You’d probably have to find a way to get certified with a different federation.” Yuuri shrugged. “We’d figure something out. But...we don’t have to worry about that now.” He flicked the print-out in Victor’s hand. “We need to worry about this.”  
Victor’s eyes lit up in a way that often made Yuuri feel like every color in the world suddenly became brighter.  
“Let’s get to it then!”

Training didn’t get any easier simply because Victor was excited. If anything, it was often harder because the stakes were higher.  
As he failed to land a double loop for the fifth time in a row, Yuuri stepped onto the ice and approached Victor.  
“What’s on your mind?”  
Victor almost wanted to reject the question, claim that there was nothing on his mind, that the idea was preposterous, but he would only be stalling. Yuuri would get the answer out of him sooner or later.  
“What if I don’t pass?”  
“Then you’ll try again.”  
“What if I don’t pass again?”  
The double loop was irrelevant in the sense that he didn’t actually need it for his certification. Doubles were the next step up and it would be a while before he mastered them to an extent that they could be a permanent part of his skating, but every time he failed something new it lit up a spark of insecurity that affected everything.  
Yuuri knew the feeling well. When he still skated competitively, he always had a tendency to fail his jumps when too much was on his mind, and in turn, when he flubbed a jump it only made his anxiety worse, ensuring that there was too much on his mind. It was a viscous cycle.  
Yuuri sighed and started skating around Victor in a circle. This would probably be a good time for an educational story, he thought, but he couldn’t think of one.  
“Then you’ll try again, and again, and again. And you can always get certified in Bronze first. You could do that with your eyes closed at this point.”  
“Wouldn’t that be a step backwards?” Victor was getting a little dizzy from having Yuuri skate around him, so he joined Yuuri in skating circles around the rink.  
“Actually, no. Getting certified in Bronze first would make more sense. You’ve decided to go for Silver right away, so you’re actually skipping a step. Two steps even, considering that there’s a pre-Bronze bracket.” Yuuri went into a spread eagle. “If you go for Bronze first, it’s not a set-back.”  
“But I don’t want to,” Victor said with a sigh.  
“I know,” Yuuri replied before going into a scratch spin. Then he skated back up to Victor. “That’s why I’m not telling you to do Bronze first. I’m not telling you that’s what you should do. I’m not trying to stop you from practicing for Silver. I’m only saying that if it doesn’t work out, you have other options.”  
Victor was suddenly hit with a wave of profound gratitude at he thought of how many coaches would have tried to reel him in and force him to not skip any steps simply because he wanted to. Yuuri was helping him do what he wanted, just like Minako had once said he would.  
So he wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist and kissed him.  
“Thank you,” he said as they separated, but only just.  
They stood there embracing for a long time, until they both started getting cold from standing in one spot in the middle of an ice rink.  
As Victor went back to his practice, he finally landed the double loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figure skating tests and certification are a complicated system. I'm simplifying and omitting a lot for the sake of the story largely because I lack first-hand experience with it and I fear I'd probably get a lot of it wrong. XD  
> I apologize to any figure skaters who might be reading this and feel I'm not doing the process justice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it goes.

Practice became routine again soon enough. Victor’s progress was steady, and just as Yuuri had predicted, he was ready to take his certification tests in under 6 months.  
Soon the date for the tests was set, tickets were bought, plans were made, and days were filled with anxious excitement as Victor and Yuuri were preparing to go to Russia together.  
However, that was when things decided to stop going so smoothly.

About 2 weeks before the trip to Russia was scheduled to take place, Vicchan got sick.  
Really sick. He was old, and no longer able to fight off illness, so despite the veterinarians’ best attempts to help him, there was really very little they could do but ‘make him comfortable’. 

There was no way to move the testing date for Victor without losing the opportunity to participate in Nationals, so the trip had to go as scheduled.  
“You need to stay,” Victor said simply.  
Yuuri was silent. Vicchan was sleeping fitfully in his lap, trembling and whining quietly every time he woke up.  
“You need me,” Yuuri replied quietly after a few minutes of silence.  
“He needs you more.”  
Yuuri didn’t argue. As much as he didn’t want to let his student down, he knew that ultimately, Victor was right. Yuuri couldn’t leave, not now. He would never forgive himself if his friend died alone.

So Victor went to Russia without Yuuri.  
It was a strange experience. This trip was meant to be exciting, was meant to be Victor’s chance to see his home country again, and to show it to Yuuri.  
Instead, it was hollow and sad, and only a step away from pointless.  
Victor had been so excited to become certified, only to realize how little sense it all made when Yuuri wasn’t beside him, when those he loved where in pain.  
He knew that eventually the importance of certification and his skating career would reestablish themselves in his mind and heart, but just then it was difficult to see past the fog of sadness to remember why any of this even mattered.

Vicchan died on the morning of the day when Victor was to take his tests. But Yuuri waited to tell Victor.  
Victor got through his tests half out of dedication and half out of spite, passing by the skin of his teeth. He didn’t notice the whispers or the glares the other skaters were giving him. He barely managed to flash a smile for the few reporters that had somehow found out he would be there.  
He called Yuuri afterward to tell him the news. Yuuri congratulated him, but Victor could tell that Yuuri was barely holding it together for his sake, and after some nudging and probing, Yuuri finally said in broken sentences that Vicchan was gone.  
Victor had not expected to be hit as hard as he was by the news. Vicchan was Yuuri’s dog, but Victor had been living in Hasetsu for several years now, spending as much time with Vicchan as Yuuri did. They shared walks, they shared the couch, the bed. Vicchan often tagged along for practice and watched Victor skate. Victor had grown attached to the poodle, had grown to love him. And now that he was gone, Victor felt like a tiny piece of his heart was ripped out of him, never to be returned. He remembered losing Makkachin all those years ago, and even though that wound was old and mostly healed, it suddenly felt as raw and painful as the day it happened.  
He was still in the arena where he’d taken his test, so he found the nearest bathroom, locked himself in a stall, and let the tears fall. 

He didn’t know how long he’d spent there, when there was a bang on the door of his stall. Someone had hit it with their foot.  
Victor opened the door to see none other than Yuri Plistesky, Russia’s favorite figure skating prodigy, standing in front of him. Victor didn’t know what he would even be doing here, at the adult skater certification event, and yet here he was, staring at Victor with disdain and superiority.  
“What the hell was that, old man?” Plisetsky practically spat at Victor. “You want to represent Russia with those skills? You’re pathetic!” He grimaced as he took in Victor’s reddened eyes and disheveled hair. “Crying in a bathroom stall, really? Aren’t you too old for that?” He sneered, actually sneered. “There’s no place for you in this sport.”  
Under many circumstances, most circumstances really, Victor would smile and say something falsely sweet and condescending, but Plisetsky caught him in a bad moment, and Victor didn’t have the patience or the energy to mask his emotions.  
He moved forward with such speed and determination, that Yuri stepped back before he even knew what he was doing. Victor grabbed him by his chin, tilting his head up to face him. A look of panic passed Yuri’s face, but only for a moment.  
“Listen up, you little shit,” Victor said in a cold, calm voice. “A close friend of mine just died, and I don’t have the time for your bravado and your entitlement. I don’t know who you think you are and what gives you the right to judge me. But you’re lucky you won’t be competing against me. Because I’d be wiping the ice with you before you knew what hit you.”  
Victor let go of Yuri's face, then turned around and left the bathroom, left the arena, left Russia.  
He got on the next plane he could catch and went back home, to Hasetsu.

Victor didn’t tell anyone that he was coming back early. He didn’t want anyone to worry and have to accommodate him. They had enough to worry about as it was.  
When he arrived back in Yu-topia, he found Yuuri in a small room, where a shrine had been set up for Vicchan.  
Yuuri gasped softly when he saw Victor, surprised to see him back so soon.  
They didn’t speak. Victor sat beside Yuuri and wrapped his arms around him. After a few minutes, Yuuri finally relaxed into Victor’s embrace.  
Victor let him cry in his arms for a long time.  
There would be a time to discuss Victor’s trip, a time to celebrate his certification, a time to plan for the future. But now was a time for grief. A time to honor a friend.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a long time before the dark mood that had settled in Yu-topia’s back rooms started to dissipate. Of course, clients were still met with smiles, and of course, no one was quite as affected as Yuuri, but there was still a sense of unease that hung around the Katsuki household for weeks following Vicchan’s death.  
Yuuri would sometimes feel like the grief was letting him go, but then a memory would come back to him, and he was once again crying in his bedroom.  
Other times he was smiling and feeling like everything was alright, and he would feel guilty for doing so. Like he was forgetting his friend by moving on, and he hated himself.  
Victor didn’t push him. Most of the time he didn’t say anything. These weeks were the most quiet Victor has been in a long time. Words would not be helpful just then, so he gave Yuuri comfort when needed, space when needed. He knew there probably wouldn’t be a moment when a switch would be flipped in Yuuri’s mind and he would suddenly be okay again. This would have to be a gradual process of recovery, and Victor intended to give Yuuri whatever resources he needed to eventually feel better.  
Victor sometimes wondered if he himself was allowed to feel as sad as he did, considering that he only knew Vicchan for a few years, while Yuuri had known him for over a decade. But no one in the Katsuki household ever expected him to feel or act a certain way, so he quietly worked through his own grief along with Yuuri.  
One day Victor found Yuuri sitting in front of Vicchan’s shrine. He wasn’t crying, he was just silent, looking at the picture of his friend.  
Victor approached him quietly, took one of his hands and placed a gentle kiss on his skin.  
“Yuuri, could you come with me?”  
Yuuri felt confused for a moment, but Victor’s eyes were so gentle and caring, that he didn’t question the invitation and simply followed Victor in silence.  
Once they entered their bedroom, Victor sat at his keyboard and started playing.  
The piece was sad, almost painful, but at the same time there was an undercurrent of joy, like a happy memory, now tainted with grief.  
Yuuri wondered, not for the first time, how music could carry and evoke such conflicting emotions all at once.  
When Victor finished playing, he turned around to face Yuuri.  
“I wrote this for Vicchan,” he said quietly.  
Yuuri nodded as a tear rolled down his cheek.  
“It’s beautiful,” he finally said after a long pause.  
“I want to skate to it, if that’s alright with you,” Victor said, uncertainty clear in his voice.  
“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked. “It’s your first competitive season. Are you sure you want it to be so...sad?”  
Victor shrugged.  
“This is how I feel right now. It would be false and dishonest to skate to an upbeat tune to get the crowd cheering, when that’s not really how I feel. This...might be sad, but it’s true.”  
Yuuri thought it over for a moment, and really, he couldn’t argue with Victor’s words. Besides, he’d never had any intention of dictating Victor’s creative choices.  
“Okay,” he said simply.  
And it was settled.

After this, Victor’s programs for Nationals started to really come together. Before, he’d had elements and bits of choreography he wanted to use, but wasn’t sure how to put them together into a complete program.  
Now he had music, he had a feeling, and his programs came to him along with the notes.  
He used the piece he’d played for Yuuri for his free skate, and composed another piece for his artistic program.  
All that was left now was to memorize his choreography, and practice his programs until he was certain he could perform them as close to perfection as he could.  
The theme for his season would be Grief.

Adult figure skaters didn’t always have a theme for their competitive season the way Senior division skaters did. And even if they did, it wasn’t often as widely covered, because adult figure skating simply didn’t have as much interest around it.  
But Victor’s presence was rapidly changing the rules. Show-business media was paying close attention to him, which caused sports media to keep up so as not to miss out on attracting additional viewers and readers. Suddenly, it did matter what Victor’s theme was, how and where he intended to compete. And by extension, people wanted to know who his competition was, and what they were intending to do in order to beat Victor.  
The skaters that would end up in the same bracket as Victor had varying emotions about this turn of events. Some hated him for getting all the attention, for becoming the only thing that mattered about competitions that barely mattered to anyone in the first place. Others were glad that their sport was finally getting the attention it deserved, even if the reason for it was questionable.  
None of them particularly liked Victor, however, because if they were to lose to him, no one would ever even remember them since all everyone cared about was Victor. And if they were to beat him, then the massive numbers of Victor’s fans would hate them for robbing their idol of his victory.  
It wasn’t going to be a very friendly atmosphere.  
But Victor was prepared. More or less. He had no intention of fighting with his competitors, badmouthing his opponents or slighting their importance or their abilities. He liked competition, but he never liked the vile animosity that often went hand in hand with it. He’s hated backroom vitriol at competitions ever since his participation in Eurovision all those years ago, when he saw just how ugly things could get when humans were pitted against each other in a contest they all felt they were the most qualified to win.  
He didn’t miss that atmosphere, and he didn’t look forward to seeing it again. He knew he couldn’t control how people would feel about him, how they would act toward him. But no matter what the world of competitive figure skating would bring, the least he could do was stay true to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

“Back-up laces.”  
“Check.”  
“Back-up blades.”  
“Check.”  
“Extra socks.”  
“Check.”  
“First-aid kit.”  
“Yuuri, stop worrying.”  
Yuuri groaned. They were flying out to Russia in only a few hours, and his anxiety was in full swing.   
He wasn’t even sure why this was hitting him so hard. This technically wasn’t his first competition as Victor’s coach. He wasn’t new to travel either. But something about the upcoming Russian Nationals was filling him with more worry than even some of the competitions he’d personally performed in had in the past.   
He’d realized at some point, and was now gradually coming to terms with the fact that Victor’s success seemed to matter more to him than his own once did. Once he’d started supporting his sport independently from his family, his success and failure would only truly reflect on him personally. Sure, he was representing his country, but he wasn’t the only one doing so, so if he were to fail, others would take his place.   
When he was competitive, he always wanted to win. But he was also always prepared for failure.   
Now, as Victor was about to skate in his first official figure skating season, Yuuri’s worry had so many new layers.   
He worried as Victor’s coach, because now that Victor’s career was surrounded with media attention, and millions of fans expected him to perform miracles on ice, Yuuri knew that if Victor were to fail, many would blame his coach, because they loved Victor too much to blame him.  
He worried as Victor’s partner as well, and that worry was more personal and raw, because he knew how much this meant to Victor, how much he wanted it. He wanted Victor to succeed and be happy, and didn’t want to see him hurt.   
And another part of him, a slightly more bitter and petty part of him, wanted to see all the naysayers and haters eat their words as Victor demonstrated that he did deserve every bit of attention he was getting, that he was a real athlete, that he was going to win because he was good, not because of his past fame.   
Yuuri knew how good Victor was, and he wanted the world to see it. But he also knew how many things could go wrong in a competition, how hard it was to condense all your skill and art into a 2-minute performance in a place and time slot selected by someone else. Yuuri didn’t doubt Victor’s skill or talent. He doubted luck and circumstance.   
“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, finally zipping up the suitcases. “I’m just...”  
“Worried, I know.” Victor guided Yuuri to sit down, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I just don’t want you to burn your precious nerve cells over this.”  
“How sweet of you to care about my nerve cells.”  
“I care about your nerve cells,” Victor said, placing a kiss on the side of Yuuri’s head, “and your hair follicles, and your fingernails, and your epidermis, and your leukocytes–”  
“Okay, okay!” Yuuri giggled. “I got your point.”  
Yuuri made himself more comfortable in Victor’s embrace, and they sat in silence for a while before Victor spoke again.  
“Are you worried about going to Russia? I know it’s very foreign to you and you don’t speak the language. We don’t have to stay for too long if you don’t want to.”  
They were intending to go to St. Petersburg after the competition so Yuuri could see Victor’s hometown.  
“No, no, it’s fine. I...I actually know a little Russian.” He smiled at Victor’s shocked, excited expression. “Not enough to communicate, I just took a course in college.”  
The truth was that Yuuri had started learning Russian many years ago so that he could understand Victor’s older songs. All of his more recent, internationally marketed albums were in English, but a lot of the songs from the start of his career were in Russian, and Yuuri put quite a bit of effort into actually understanding them rather than just trusting YouTube translation videos. He never got particularly good at it, and his vocabulary was abysmal, but he did understand the structure of the language pretty well.  
“Do you know Cyrillic?”  
“I can read it. I don’t always understand what I’m reading though.”  
Victor laughed joyfully, kissing Yuuri on the lips. He was surprised they’d never discussed this. Victor had learned quite a bit of Japanese during his time in Hasetsu, and sometimes he would share a word in Russian with Yuuri if he couldn’t find an appropriate equivalent in English, but somehow the fact that Yuuri apparently knew some Russian never actually came up. In some ways Yuuri outdid Victor on the language front, because he could actually read Russian. To be fair, however, Yuuri only had to learn one alphabet in order to read Russian. Victor could stumble through hiragana and katakana, but he couldn’t read kanji to save his life.  
“Maybe you could learn some more Russian while we’re there!” Victor exclaimed. “They say immersion is the best way to learn a language.”  
“That probably requires more than a 2-week stay.”  
“But you have a base to build on!”  
Yuuri only smiled in response. He didn’t think he’d really speak to all that many people in Russia, so it was unlikely that his knowledge of the language would significantly grow, but Victor was so excited about his Russian skills, and Yuuri didn’t want to crush that excitement. Seeing Victor’s joy was also quite contagious, and served as a great distraction from being nervous about the trip and the competition.

The next day they were touching down in Moscow, where they had to change planes before finally arriving in Kazan, where the competition would take place. They had to go from one airport to another in Moscow, and as soon as they were out of the terminal, they were swarmed with reporters. Victor smiled and answered a few questions. He signed some autographs as well. Then they got into the car that Amanda had hired for them, enjoyed a brief respite of the car ride, and received a similar treatment in the second airport.   
The airport in Kazan wasn’t as heavy on reporters, but more were waiting in the lobby of their hotel.  
The arrival at the hotel also marked Victor’s first run-in with some of his competition.   
Georgi Popovich, another adult figure skater competing in Victor’s bracket, was leaning against a column of the hotel lobby, staring daggers at Victor.   
Victor recognized him from that time when Yuuri had made him familiarize himself with his opponents.   
After a few minutes of posing for cameras and dishing out empty answers to reporters’ questions, Victor walked with determination toward Popovich and extended his hand in greeting.   
“Hello! I’m Victor! We’ll be competing together!” he said with a wide smile.  
Popovich stared at him with his mouth hanging slightly open. He took in the dozen cameras snapping pictures and the reporters watching expectantly. He shook Victor’s hand.  
“Hello...”  
“I’m so glad to finally meet the other skaters! Your theme this season is New Beginnings, right?”  
Now Georgi was truly shocked. He really hadn’t expected Victor to know his theme. There wasn’t all that much coverage of adult figure skaters’ careers, so only true fans would know someone’s season theme. Victor had to have checked his personal website or dug out an interview from a really obscure skating blog.   
In actually, it was Yuuri who had done that, saying that it was important to know one’s competition, and forcing Victor to watch the other skaters’ routines if there were videos available. Victor rather surprised himself with the fact that he remembered Popovich’s theme, or even Popovich himself, and it was largely to the credit of whoever created Popovich’s costumes and make-up. They were quite memorable.   
“Ah, yes...” Georgi said, still a bit dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.  
“I look forward to skating against you!” Victor said. “I think our skill levels are well-matched.”  
At this, the reporters decided to pay a bit more attention to Popovich. If he were to win against Victor Nikiforov, having an early interview with him in the bank would be quite useful.   
As they directed their cameras and questions at the new target, Victor stepped aside and quickly slipped into the elevator with Yuuri.  
As the doors closed and they were on their way to their floor, Yuuri turned to face Victor.  
“I’m actually not sure if that was generous or malicious,” he said.  
Victor shrugged with a cunning smile.  
“Bit of both.”

As they reached their room, they dropped onto one of the beds, finally relaxing.   
The first practice session at the rink was not until the next day. They had the evening to themselves, and neither particularly wanted to go out, especially considering that reporters were likely still waiting for Victor to show himself outside.   
So they showered, changed, and ordered room service. They’d be in the public eye again the next day, and the immediate preparations for the competition would start in earnest. But for now, they had a quiet evening in, relaxing as much as was possible, enjoying each other’s company, and bracing themselves for whatever would happen next.


	8. Chapter 8

Yuri Plisetsky never much cared for adult figure skating. As many, if not most people he believed that sport was for the young, that it was about pushing the limits of the human body, trying to do more and be better than everyone else. Once you aged, your abilities became significantly limited. You were no longer at peak capacity, so what was the point of competing against other limited people? No records would be set there, nothing new or amazing would happen. As far as Yuri was concerned, old people should just stick to bingo and knitting, or whatever it was old people did, and leave the competitions of physical abilities to those who were in their prime.  
Yuri was not one to easily part with his convictions.   
So it was with groans and muffled swears that he agreed to accompany his coach to an adult figure skating certification event, where she served as a judge. She had believed that it would broaden Yuri’s horizons, make him understand how much adult athletes could do, how much more there was to figure skating than just young people pushing their limits.   
It did the opposite.   
As Yuri watched 30-somethings do their double jumps, he was annoyed. He admitted, internally, that some of them looked fine and had some performing talent, but their skills were appalling and inherently limited.   
He was especially infuriated by that Victor Nikiforov that everyone was raving about because he was some sort of pop star. Rumor was that he intended to compete internationally, but he barely managed to pass his test. Yuri was there, he saw it. And he almost wanted to punch him.  
Instead he’d kicked the door of his bathroom stall; and then followed an unexpectedly violent conversation, which – though Yuri would hardly ever admit it out loud – actually made him respect the man just a little bit.   
And that was how his curiosity got him to this year’s adult figure skating Nationals, where Nikiforov was competing. 

The arena that was usually sparsely filled during adult competitions was now brimming with spectators. This was, of course, almost entirely due to Victor’s fame. Some of the audience members were fans of his music who barely even cared about figure skating at all, some were figure skating fans that genuinely wanted to see what Victor could do, and some were actually people who simply wanted to see Victor fail.   
The artistic skate for Victor’s age and skill group was scheduled for the first day of the event. The day began with drawing numbers that signified the order in which the skaters would perform. There had been no regional competitions, so everyone who was certified to compete in their chosen bracket was free to compete in Nationals.   
Victor would be skating 5th.   
He was currently stretching in the back rooms, occasionally glancing at the screen that showed what was happening on the ice.  
Yuuri watched over him protectively. Sometimes the other skaters would shoot them dirty looks, as if they were somehow doing something wrong just by being there, and it made Yuuri’s heart clench unpleasantly to realize how hated Victor was simply for daring to follow his dreams after having already succeeded elsewhere. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wasn’t doing anything different than what the other adult figure skaters were doing. The hatred was undeserved, and yet here it was.   
Georgi Popovich was skating 3rd. He was wearing a white and blue outfit with something akin to small wings in the back. White streaks had been put into his hair, and he was wearing white eye shadow and lipstick.   
“That guy really goes all out on presentation,” Victor said, watching the screen over Yuuri’s shoulder.   
“Is that admiration or jealousy?” Yuuri asked playfully.  
“Oh please. I don’t need the bells and whistles. I’ll let my skating speak for itself.”  
Yuuri grinned, turning to face Victor.  
“This is an art as much as it is a sport, you know.”  
“The ratio is questionable.”  
“Victor, your free skate costume is worth more than what the onsen makes in a month.”  
“Touche.” Victor placed a kiss on the top of Yuuri’s head.   
They watched Popovich finish his performance. It was quite good, Victor had to admit, but he’d made some mistakes that disrupted the flow of his program, so his score wouldn’t be perfect.   
As the fourth skater was taking the ice, Victor was doing some last-minute stretches and getting his mind into the right mood for his performance.  
“Ready?” Yuuri asked.  
“No pep talk, coach?”   
“Do you need one?”  
“I wouldn’t mind one.”  
An arena employee came in to let them know that the ice was ready for Victor.   
They walked out into the main area, and the crowd started cheering. There might have been some boos scattered around, but they were drowned out by the overwhelming support.   
Victor took off his guards and stepped onto the ice.  
“Hey,” Yuuri said, grabbing Victor’s hand, causing him to turn around to face his coach. “You don’t need a pep talk, or an elaborate costume, or the bells and whistles. You have everything you need inside of you.”   
He brought Victor’s hand to his lips and kissed it. The audience cheered some more.   
Victor skated to the center of the rink.

He stood with his head slightly bowed, and his arms at his sides. When the music started, he began to skate slowly, with his arms still hanging limply, and his body arched forward, as if he was curling in on himself.   
Gradually, he began to unfurl, gaining speed, going into a spread eagle. His arms began to move, flowing in the air gracefully. Back in Hasetsu, Minako smiled proudly as she watched the livestream of the competition. Victor’s ballet classes were paying off, evident in his movements and posture.   
There were few technical requirements for the artistic program, with presentation and interpretation of music taking priority. In this discipline, the art of figure skating was taking precedence over athleticism and acrobatics.   
Though Victor’s jumps were clean, and his spins were beautiful, it was everything in between that truly captivated the audience. His movements were synched to the music so perfectly that it almost felt like his body was creating the music there and then.   
Victor feared that the emotion he put into his performance would come off overdramatic. It was difficult to find the balance when it came to performing for a large audience – you had to exaggerate everything so that it would come through well to everyone watching, but not too much, or it would seem false, would feel like overacting.   
The music for his artistic program was faster and more joyful than the piece Victor had composed for the free skate, but the undercurrent of sadness was still there; and many people in the audience watched in wonder, trying to figure out the causes and inspirations behind Victor’s routine.   
The artistic program was incredibly brief. Victor knew there was little one could truly express in such a limited time, but he did not let that stop him. He’d once managed to win millions of fans with short pop songs that barely had much substance. He could captivate an audience with a performance that was filled with true emotion, even if it was under 2 minutes long.   
By the time Victor was finished, even some of the people who had come to the event to see him fail had to grudgingly admit that he actually...was pretty damn good.   
The crowd cheered him on, throwing flowers and plush toys onto the ice. A few plush poodles landed by Victor’s feet, making him choke back a wave of sadness. But he picked up some flowers, smiled and waved to his fans.  
Yuuri met him with a hug and a light kiss as he stepped off the ice.  
His score put him in 1st place, but a few more skaters were yet to perform.  
Victor and Yuuri held hands as they left the Kiss&Cry, moving on to talk to reporters.

In one of the back rows, just to the side of the arena exit, Yuri Plisetsky was having a crisis of convictions.


	9. Chapter 9

Victor won the artistic skate competition, beating Popovich by close to 3 points.  
With so many age and skill groups competing, the victory ceremonies were fairly short since so many people needed to be celebrated. Nonetheless, Victor received his gold medal to enthusiastic cheers of his fans, and left the arena feeling nothing short of happy.

It was quite late by the time Yuuri and Victor made it back to their hotel room. They were now lying on one of their hotel room beds, facing each other, waiting for their dinner to arrive. Though Victor was dozing, exhausted after his performance and the excitement of the day.  
Yuuri, however, was kept wide awake thanks to the anxiety caused by the upcoming free skate. He would crash once the competition was over, but for now he could barely sleep at all. He was trying to stay as relaxed as possible nonetheless, as he didn’t want his anxiety to rub off on Victor.  
“Any comment on today’s performance, coach?” Victor said quietly, trying to keep himself awake.  
“The landing on the toe loop was shaky,” Yuuri said softly. It sounded more like a bedtime story than a coach’s critique. He ran his finger’s through Victor’s hair. “You were much better than at your first competition. You’re improving.”  
Victor smiled, though his eyes were closed.  
“Think I could progress to Gold next year?”  
“Let’s finish this season first, then we’ll talk.”  
Victor fell asleep before dinner arrived. Yuuri didn’t wake him. He probably needed sleep more than he needed food. 

The next day the arena seemed to somehow be even more packed than the day before, even though that shouldn’t have been possible.  
A lot of the skaters who’d performed in the artistic skate competition were also going to compete in the free skate, and a few new skaters who hadn’t competed the day before were also present.  
The atmosphere in the back rooms has...shifted, slightly. A lot of the other skaters had made assumptions about Victor and his sudden appearance in the sport, but now that they’d seen him skate, some of them had changed their attitude. Not that he suddenly became popular and loved, but the looks he was getting were now less dismissive disdain and more grudgingly respectful annoyance.  
Yuuri was equal parts glad and disappointed that his Russian wasn’t good enough for him to understand the whispers and conversations he often overheard that were obviously about him and/or Victor.  
Victor was warming up as the competition began. He didn’t pay much attention to skaters outside of his bracket. He didn’t want to be dismissive, but he wanted to concentrate on preparing for his own performance.  
It was only when his own age and skill group started skating that Victor began to pay attention to the screen.  
Popovich did much better in his free skate than he had in the artistic program. However, the skater who had placed third the day before flubbed 2 jumps and obviously would not medal in this discipline.  
Now it was time for Victor to perform. He took a deep breath and stepped out into the spotlight, relishing the cheers of the crowd.  
As he stepped onto the ice, he turned to Yuuri and they held hands for a moment.  
“For Vicchan,” Victor said quietly.  
Yuuri nodded and kissed the back of Victor’s hand.  
They parted, and Victor took center stage. 

His free skate costume wasn’t nearly as elaborate as its price would have you imagine. It was simply well-tailored from high-quality materials. An all-black outfit that simultaneously accentuated Victor’s figure and gave him a reserved, almost official appearance.  
The music for his free skate had grown richer and more complex since it’d been recorded professionally, but Victor kept the arrangement relatively minimal, with only 5 instruments used. It was a haunting melody, filled with both the joy of love and the melancholy of loss.  
The start of the program was understated, balancing between vulnerability and despair. The second half tipped into something approaching anger as Victor’s movements became wider and faster, less reserved, more passionate. Though every movement was precisely controlled, the increasing speed and emotion put into the choreography gave the performance a sense of danger. Victor was captivating in a way that most performers could only ever dream of being.  
He finished with an Axel – the most difficult jump allowed in his bracket. Only one other skater had performed it, and not nearly as cleanly as Victor did.  
After one last spin, Victor froze in his final pose.  
There was silence. Just like the time after Victor’s first competition, the audience needed a moment to come out of the trance that his performance had put them in. And then they broke out in cheers and applause not unlike those Victor had enjoyed at his music concerts, if on a significantly smaller scale. The skating fans knew this was a winning performance, however simple it might have been compared to what could be seen in the Senior division. Many of the music fans that only came to support Victor out of dedication couldn’t really tell one jump from another, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying the beauty of Victor’s skating. A few people in the audience were crying. Victor picked up a few flower bouquets that had been thrown onto the ice for him and waved at his fans.  
Yuuri embraced Victor as he stepped off the ice. He knew already Victor would win, there really wasn’t any doubt about that. This wasn’t like Victor’s first competition where he won largely through presentation. This time Victor’s performance was technically complex and nearly flawless in execution. His score would be far above those of his competitors.  
In fact, his score broke the world record for his division.  
Of course, most of the sports world hardly cared about the records set in the Silver division in adult figure skating. But they were beginning to care. Because sometimes it didn’t matter that a skater couldn’t do quads. Their talent overshadowed their limited physical abilities. Victor’s skating was undeniably inspired and captivating.  
Many people who had come to watch the Russian Nationals only came because of Victor’s show-business fame. But they were staying for his skating. Victor’s skating career was no longer a quirk of a celebrity or a novelty to watch out of fascination. It was the ascent of a talented athlete. And everyone wanted to watch him rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered ending it here, but instead we're getting a bit more plot and then a bunch of chapters of essentially plotless fluff. XD  
> I should mention that I don't think world records in adult figure skating even exist. Even the most official of adult competitions are still often labeled 'unofficial', and I don't think anyone is really keeping track of scoring records. But let's pretend that the world is better than that and that there was a world record for Victor to beat.  
> Also, of course, flowers and gifts getting thrown on the ice would not happen in real-life adult figure skating as it is now. Unfortunately, not enough people are supportive or passionate enough about the sport to actually do that, but Victor is an international celebrity, so that rather changes the rules.


	10. Chapter 10

Victor took the first place, of course.  
The second went to Kiril Chakharidze, who had placed first the year before. He wasn’t terribly happy with Victor, but he also knew these things happened. This just meant he would have to try harder to beat Victor next year.  
Third place went to Georgi Popovich. Though his performances had always been quite memorable, he’d only ever medaled in artistic skate competitions before. This was the first time his free skate ever got him a medal at a major competition. He would have preferred to rank higher, of course, but was still glad to be climbing the podium for the second time in as many days.  
After the award ceremony was over, reporters swarmed the winners. Mostly Victor, of course.   
There was a joined press conference later in the day, for the winners in all divisions.   
Yuuri found it a little painful to watch as so many questions were directed at Victor, with the other winners having to sit through it all, largely ignored.   
Victor himself became increasingly irritated by the slanted levels of interest in him above everyone else. He liked attention, thrived on it. But he didn’t like unfairness. Part of him wanted to excuse himself and leave, but he knew many of the reporters would simply leave as well as soon as he was out of the room, and that would probably be even worse.   
He knew it was petty, but he laced some of his answers with subtle criticism, such as beginning his response with “Well, I’m not the only one here who has won a medal today”, or throwing in “My costume wasn’t nearly as impressive as some of the others on the ice in this competition”, and even “My voice is starting to get sore”.   
Yuuri watched from the sidelines, sympathetic toward both Victor and all the other skaters.  
“Hey, Katsuki,” a voice called from behind him.  
He turned around to see a young man with a hoodie pulled over his head.  
“Yes?”   
The man removed the hood, and Yuuri immediately recognized him as Yuri Plisetsky, Russia’s favorite skating prodigy. His eyes widened a little.  
Yuri recognized that he’s been recognized and skipped the formalities of introductions to get right to the point.  
“You’re Nikiforov’s coach, right?” Plisetsky asked.  
“I am.”  
“How long have you been coaching him?”  
“About 3 years.”  
“Did he skate as a kid?”  
“No, he started at 31.”  
Yuuri had a strange feeling like he was being interrogated, and he wasn’t entirely sure for what purpose.   
“You got that old man from zero to _that_ in 3 years?”   
“I...well, I think most of it is to his credit, not mine. He’s very dedicated, and sort of fearless. Most skaters probably wouldn’t progress as quickly as he did.”  
Yuri nodded with a small, satisfied smile. That was, in fact, exactly what he’d been hoping to hear.  
“So you let him do whatever he wants?”  
“Well...not _whatever_ , but...I try not to hold him back.” Yuuri looked at Plisetsky in hopes of an explanation, but it didn’t seem like one was coming any time soon. “Why are you asking?”   
Yuri grinned in a way that was almost scary.  
“How would you feel about taking on another skater?”  
Well, now things were starting to make sense, even if they were a little hard to believe.  
“I...haven’t thought about it.”  
“I need a new coach,” Yuri said. “You up for it?”  
Yuuri felt the familiar sensation of mild shock traveling through his body.   
“You don’t have a coach?”   
“I do. But I want a new one.”  
“The season starts soon. You want to change coaches now? Is your coach that bad?”  
Yuri shrugged.  
“She’s pretty good, actually. She’s just...” He groaned. This...explaining of emotions and motivations still didn’t come easily to him. He’d always felt like revealing feelings was a weakness. But he was learning to say what he thought and felt rather than just yell at people all the time and expect them to know what he really meant. “She does my choreography and picks the music. And it’s good, I win a lot. I just...don’t think that’s enough anymore.”  
“Have you spoken to her about it?”  
“Of course I have, do you think I’m stupid?!” Yuri let out an angry sigh. “She says if I change things too much, then I might not win. And she’s probably right.” He pulled his hood back up, trying to shield himself with a protective layer. “I get that she doesn’t want to train a loser. I probably wouldn’t either. I just...” He looked down and shook his head. “I don’t think winning is the most important thing anymore.”  
“I see,” Yuuri replied.  
“Think about, okay?” Yuri looked up at Yuuri in a way that was almost pleading, if still a little on the angry side. “Do you have your phone?”  
“Ah, yes.”   
Yuuri pulled out his cell from his pocked. Yuri grabbed it and entered his contact information, then handed it back.  
“Call me when you decide.”  
Then he simply left.  
Yuuri turned around to see that the press conference was winding down and everyone was slowly dispersing. When Victor was free of reporters, he came up to Yuuri and embraced him, practically sagging against his frame.  
They could hear pictures being taken, and Yuuri wondered, not for the first time, how this has become his life. It was strange to be followed everywhere by reporters, and have the most intimate moments of your life photographed for gossip websites. But he was also the happiest he’d ever been, so the weirdness was worth it.  
“Let’s go back to the hotel, okay?” Victor said against Yuuri’s neck.  
“Sure.”  
Yuuri would need to discuss Plisetsky’s offer with Victor, but it could wait. Right now they both needed rest.   
So they returned to their hotel room, crawled into bed, wrapped themselves around each other, and quickly fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

As their plane touched down in St. Petersburg, Yuuri mentally thanked the universe for the fact that Russian adult Nationals were in late spring that year, and not in mid-winter, like the Nationals in the Senior division would be. Visiting Victor’s hometown was exciting, but probably wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable in negative-degree weather.   
When they arrived at Victor’s apartment, Yuuri was surprised to see how clean it looked. It didn’t exactly look lived-in, but it also didn’t look nearly as abandoned as one would expect from a place that had not been occupied in several years.   
“Why do you keep this place?” Yuuri asked, setting his suitcase near a wall and taking off his shoes.   
“Why not?” Victor shrugged. “I have a cleaner come in every 3 months to remove the dust and make sure the pipes are alright.”  
“You pay utilities for this place? Still?” Yuuri looked at Victor with a slightly scandalized expression.   
“Yuuri...” Victor said in a slightly patronizing tone, “I’m rich.”  
“Right. I...forget sometimes.” Rich or not, this just seemed wasteful to Yuuri, but another thing that worried him about the arrangement was that Victor was still keeping a permanent living place in Russia, which meant he was probably intending to move back there at some point. And that filled Yuuri with quite a bit of insecurity. “Do you...plan to live here again? Someday?”   
He tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice, but failed. And Victor noticed.   
“Only if you live here with me,” Victor said, coming up to Yuuri and wrapping his arms around his waist. He smiled and placed a soft kiss on Yuuri’s lips. “I don’t rent this apartment, I own it. I’ve considered renting it out, but it seems dangerous to do that while I’m in another country. I could sell it, but...I don’t know. It feels nice to still have it, even if I’ll never live in it.” He could feel the tension in Yuuri and hurried to reassure him. “This isn’t a back-up plan, Yuuri. I’m not keeping the apartment because I want a place to run back to. I just like having it. I have a small house in California too, you know.”  
“You do?”  
“Yes!” Victor giggled. “You didn’t know that?”  
“No. You never told me.”   
“Hmm. I think...maybe I like keeping these places because my family wasn’t very wealthy. There were a lot of things I couldn’t have because we didn’t have the money for it. So now I’m comforted by the fact that I can do this – can have houses and apartments that I don’t even live in. It helps me remember that I’m not poor anymore. Makes me feel safer. Being poor can be hard to forget.” Victor sighed. “I used to save all my money. Back when I first started making a lot. I couldn’t bring myself to spend it, always fearing that it would be ripped away from me any moment, so I had to save as much as possible. But when I started getting international success, I eventually reached a point where I would never be poor even if I never worked again thanks to royalties and advertising contracts. I still have a few bank account with money that I never touch, but I try to enjoy my wealth now instead of just sitting on it like a dog on hay.”  
Yuuri nodded. He didn’t fully understand the emotions that Victor was describing, as he’d never really been either rich or poor, but if Victor said this helped him feel better, then Yuuri wasn’t about to argue.   
He reluctantly extricated himself from Victor’s embrace to get a better look at the apartment. It wasn’t that large in actual square footage, but it felt spacious, with high ceilings and a lot of empty space. It wasn’t as cozy as Yuuri generally preferred, but to make up for that it wasn’t crammed.   
Victor had had this apartment decorated professionally, with space in mind. When he’d first moved into it, he still had Makkachin with him, and the dog loved space. He loved running and jumping, and the only way to provide that for him in an apartment was to leave as much of it empty as possible.   
Yuuri felt a pang of sadness as his gaze fell on a large basket in the corner. It was filled with dog toys. Victor could never bring himself to get rid of them. He just collected them all in one spot and let them sit there. There were even more toys in his house in California.  
Now, they were going to live in this apartment for the next 2 weeks, and while it was fully ready to be occupied, it didn’t have any food other than some dry beans and rice, and a few cans of fruit that had to have expired some time ago. The refrigerator was completely empty. It wasn’t even plugged in.   
There were other things that were missing from the apartment as there hadn’t been a need for them for a long time. Like toilet paper or soap. Some of it they could probably do without as they had much of what they needed with them, but some grocery shopping was unavoidable.   
“I could have someone pick up everything we need,” Victor said. “Or would you rather we go ourselves?”   
“I don’t know,” Yuuri said honestly. “Will we get crowded by photographers again?”  
“I’m not sure. I don’t think they know we’re here yet.”  
They hadn’t been paid much attention at the airport because their trip to St. Petersburg was a personal plan that the press didn’t know about.  
“I guess they’ll know sooner or later," Yuuri said. "It shouldn’t stop us from enjoying ourselves.”  
“Grocery shopping is enjoying ourselves?”   
Yuuri smiled. He rather liked grocery shopping, when he did it with Victor. It was domestic, and gave him a sense of comfort.   
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”  
“No, no, it’s fine. I have a car in the underground garage. We can get to a supermarket without being seen.”  
“You’ve had a car just standing there for years?!” Yuuri said incredulously.   
Victor laughed.  
“No, a friend of mine is using it. I just asked her to let us have it for our stay. Then she’ll take it back.”   
“Oh, okay. Well, alright, then. Let’s go buy some toilet paper.”

The trip to the supermarket was fairly uneventful, even though it took them a few tries to actually find a supermarket. The city changed rapidly. There was no store where Victor had expected it to be, but supermarkets were scattered everywhere now, so they just went to the nearest one they could find.   
Yuuri felt a bit lost as most of the labels were in Russian, and while some he could understand, he wasn’t always completely certain. The fresh produce and bulk sections were fairly self-explanatory though, and he left the rest to Victor.   
Victor was obviously recognized by a lot of people, but was only approached twice. He took pictures with the fans, and signed autographs, but there were no paparazzi so far. It would likely change once the fans posted their pictures with Victor on social media.   
In fact, by the time they got back to the apartment, Yuuri already had a message from Phichit with links to a gossip website article about them being spotted in a St. Petersburg supermarket. There was also an email from Amanda with a list of the safest restaurants and entertainment spots to visit in St. Petersburg, and a reminder to call her if they needed something reserved or bought out for the night.   
Yuuri and Victor were quite tired by now, after the flight and the shopping, and weren’t planning to go out again any time soon. They had a quiet night in, packing away groceries, then cooking, then eating, then cuddling on the couch while watching a movie.   
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Victor asked, running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.   
“I don’t care,” Yuuri said sleepily. His eyes were closed, and he was barely staying awake. “You can show me the city. That’s why we came, right?”   
“Hmm,” Victor hummed in agreement. He could feel Yuuri relaxing against him more and more. “We should go to bed.”  
Yuuri groaned a little in protest, unwilling the move; but a part of his mind that was still awake enough to make rational judgments knew that sleeping on the couch was a bad idea.   
He got up reluctantly, and they moved to the bed, which had been freshly made by Victor’s usual cleaner upon his request just before their arrival.  
Yuuri fell asleep within seconds, but Victor stayed awake for a while, watching Yuuri sleep.   
Though he often feared that his fame would make things too overwhelming for Yuuri, to the point where he would no longer find their relationship worth the effort, a part of him also knew that Yuuri’s anxiety probably made him feel unworthy of Victor’s love at least sometimes. Maybe even unworthy of love in general. But to Victor that was preposterous, of course. He was getting the far better end of the deal here. If anyone was unworthy in this relationship, Victor thought it surely had to be him. And he still couldn’t believe sometimes that he ever got so lucky as to win Yuuri’s love.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a retweet in this chapter. I considered making an image of an actual tweet, but decided against it since I hear those things don't always show up on certain devices. It'll just be in plain text.

After Victor’s stunning victory at nationals, the sports world was abuzz with discussions of his past and his future. There were articles, TV spots, blog entries, tweets, and so on. Most were very positive, but they all, almost without exception, had one thing in common – they all spoke of how great it could have been if Victor had started skating young, if he could have competed in the Junior and Senior divisions. How great he could have been, how many records he could have set. What a loss it was for the figure skating world that Victor didn’t skate until his 30s.  
Victor had many, many very mixed emotions about this. On the one had, it really just hurt. Because, of course, he too would have wished to have been able to participate in Junior and Senior competitions, in Worlds, in Olympics. And he never will now. Though he’s found a way to chase his dream, parts of it were lost forever and could never be captured.  
But at the same time, he was achieving something. He was successful to the point where even people who had never cared about adult figure skating before were starting to take notice. And he was getting rather defensive of the sport and everyone who participated in it. So all these ‘compliments’ to him and how great he could have been had he started out younger just felt like insults to what he was doing now. And to all the other adult figure skaters who often worked harder and against worse odds than the skaters in the Junior and Senior divisions. To disregard them all as if their work and their achievements were somehow inferior was unfair and cruel.  
“You need to stop reading that stuff,” Yuuri said gently.  
He’d noticed that Victor’s face was getting more and more angry the more he read the articles, and that was a distressing sight to see. An angry Victor was sort of scary.  
“You’re right,” he said. “I’ll just...tweet something and then we can go do something more pleasant.”  
Yuuri was a bit worried about what it was Victor was about to tweet, considering his mood, and he wasn’t wrong to feel that way.  
Victor found the most popular tweet about how great he would have been, and retweeted it with a comment. 

@v-nikiforov ✔: I did just set a record. If you don’t think it counts for anything, that’s your loss, not mine, and not that of the skating world.  
        @Icekazzoo: Nikiforov could’ve been so great in seniors, could set so many records. What a loss for the skating world.

With that, Victor set his phone aside and went to prepare for that walk he and Yuuri had been planning to take. 

“Are you sure about this?” Yuuri said, only half-opening his mouth as Victor was putting make-up on him.  
“Yuuri, we’ve discussed this. It only seems silly because you know you’re in disguise.” Victor smiled at him reassuringly. “But we don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable.”  
“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, I’m just not sure it’ll work.”  
Victor just shrugged.  
“If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. No big deal.”  
“I guess,” Yuuri said with a resigned sigh.  
About 25 minutes later, Victor was done, and Yuuri could finally look at himself in the mirror. His eyes widened almost comically. This was so much more elaborate than the disguises they’d worn at Victor’s first competition back in Japan. The make-up was almost imperceptible if you didn’t know it was there, but the shadows it created changed the shape of Yuuri’s nose, made his cheeks look more hollow. He was wearing glasses that Victor had him buy in advance for this, and Yuuri had thought it was a silly idea, because those glasses wouldn’t have looked good on him usually, but with this...new face, they looked just fine. The wig Victor had chosen for him was longer and lighter than his own hair, and he really, really looked like a completely different person.  
“Well?” Victor asked expectantly, because Yuuri had been staring at his own reflection for a good 5 minutes now.  
“I take it back. This will definitely work.” Yuuri smiled, and his own reflection almost started him because it looked so different. “You’re really good at this.”  
Victor preened. Then he started working on his own make-up.  
“I used to do make-up in some of my more recent videos,” he said, trying on a few wigs. He had a small collection of them in his bedroom closet. “Remember _Buying Time_?”  
“Yes!” Yuuri said excitedly. That was one of his favorite videos. “The one with all the people that wore masks of their faces atop their own faces.”  
“I designed the masks, and did most of the make-up in that video. I got an award for it.”  
“Really? I didn’t know that.” Yuuri sort of felt like a bad fan now for not having known that. Which felt strange, all things considered.  
“Hmm. I’m quite proud of it. Though people still often tell me that video is creepy.”  
“It is creepy. That’s part of the charm.”  
“I know, right?!”  
Victor’s progress on his own make-up was much faster as he wasn’t as cautious as he had been when he worked on Yuuri’s face.  
When he was finally done, Yuuri wasn’t sure how to react.  
“I... Wow.” He stared at Victor’s new face. He’d seen Victor in disguise before, but that was nothing compared to this. He really did go all out this time.  
“As long as we can get to the embankment unseen, I think we’ll be fine.”  
Amanda had called them earlier to inform them that there were paparazzi outside the apartment building. When they asked her how she knew, considering that she wasn’t even currently in Russia, she just laughed and said it was her job to know. They both silently thanked their luck that she was on their side.

The underground garage was empty, so they got into the car and drove out. Victor immediately spotted one of the paparazzi, on a bench just outside the main entrance, her camera just peaking out of her bag.  
“Do you think they know your car?” Yuuri asked, looking around through the tinted windows.  
“They shouldn’t, but let’s see if we’re followed.”  
They were, in fact, followed. The paparazzi that followed them had simply made the call to do so because it was a car with tinted windows that exited Victor’s building, and there was a decent change that it was him.  
“How have they not lost interest by now?” Yuuri said, watching in the rear view mirror as a dark sedan tailed them down St. Petersburg roads.  
“There probably aren’t that many internationally-recognized celebrities in St. Petersburg. There are local stars, but papping someone who’s known everywhere, not just here, pays more. Couples pay more. Couples where both people are celebrities – more still.”  
“I’m hardly a celebrity.”  
“You’re enough of a celebrity to increase the potential audience for the photo, which makes it more valuable.”  
“It so strange that this is a normal part of life for people in show-business.”  
Victor shrugged.  
“Every job has its downsides.” Victor took another turn, and, diligently, their tail followed. “Alright, I have a plan. There’s a building near the beach. It used to be a hotel, but it might be something else now. When I was last there, the foyer went all the way through. I’ll stop in front of it, you’ll get out of the car and go into that building. Spend a few minutes there, then go out the other side. I’ll drive away and see if our tail follows. If they don’t recognize you, which they most likely won’t, they’ll go back to our place. I’ll park and meet you on the other side of the building.”  
“Sounds good.”  
“Call me if there’s a problem.”  
“Okay.”  
Victor stopped, Yuuri got out and entered the building Victor pointed at. It wasn’t a hotel, but Yuuri couldn’t quite tell what it actually was. It had some kind of reception with a person sitting at a desk, but he couldn’t tell what they were there for. There was a sign on the desk that said “25p”.  
No one paid any attention to Yuuri as he walked through the building and out the other side.  
As Victor had hoped, the paparazzi did not recognize Yuuri, assumed that this was some random person’s car, and turned around to go back to sitting outside Victor’s apartment building. Victor parked and walked to meet Yuuri.  
There was a moment when they both felt awkward looking at each other from a distance, because they were practically unrecognizable.  
“Hello, stranger,” Victor said, taking Yuuri’s hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles.  
Yuuri smiled, and even in disguise, his eyes were so uniquely him that Victor could recognize them anywhere. 

They walked down the embankment, watching the water. It was a weekday, so there weren’t that many people around. The weather decided to cooperate as well.  
“Victor...” Yuuri said, uncertain whether he should ask what he wanted to ask. He didn’t want to ruin the moment if it didn’t go well. “Could I meet your parents?”  
Yuuri could feel Victor’s hand tense in his. There was silence that stretched our long enough to make Yuuri seriously uncomfortable.  
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Victor said at last.  
“Oh.” Yuuri didn’t want to press. It wasn’t his place to push this. But it still stung a little.  
“I haven’t spoken to them in years.”  
Yuuri turned to look at Victor in surprise.  
“Why?”  
“They...I don’t know. They weren’t bad parents, I suppose. They didn’t abuse me, they didn’t hurt me. But they also didn’t care very much about me. They’d chosen a path for me to follow, and I was rarely allowed anything that wasn’t on that path. Anything I wanted to do or learn was met with rejection without consideration if it required any sort of effort on my parents’ part. I was only allowed to pursue a music career because they realized it could be profitable.”  
Yuuri immediately felt bad for bringing this up. He had known that Victor couldn’t skate as a child because his parents didn’t allow it, but that was about as much as he’d known about Victor’s childhood. He knew that Victor didn’t have a very good relationship with his parents, but they'd never really spoken about it in detail.  
It was easy to think that one should love their parents when the parents loved you back. Yuuri didn’t know what it was like to have parents that treated you more like an unfortunate obligation than a child, but he understood that just because he had parents that treasured and supported him, it didn’t mean that everyone in the world did.  
“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said.  
Victor sighed.  
“I know I shouldn’t complain. It could have been way worse. I had a decent home, I had food and clothes. I got incredibly lucky that Yakov found me. Many people have had it much worse.” Victor loosened his grip on Yuuri’s hand, realizing that he was starting to squeeze it too hard. “I just don’t have a lot of good memories about my parents. They didn’t hurt me, but they never showed me any love either. I regularly send them money. But I don’t have any desire to see them.”  
They found the nearest empty bench and sat down, their shoulders touching.  
“Have they tried to contact you?”  
“My mother informed me a few years ago that they’ve gotten a divorce. My father has a new family now. My mother got a promotion, she’s a dean of the science department at a major university now. My father made a weak attempt to keep in touch with me, but I don’t think he cares enough about me personally to actually keep that up. He suggested once that he and his new family come visit me in California, at my expense of course, but once I said that I didn’t really have the time for that, he lost interest in speaking to me.”  
Victor didn’t want to say so out loud, because he wasn’t entirely sure if it was true, but he often felt like all his parents wanted from him was money. They faked interest to make sure he wouldn’t cut them off, but that was about as far as their relationship went. He could understand the need for money well enough, and as long as he had it, he would continue to support his parents, but he wasn’t going to torture himself with an attempt to pretend like they could be anything that could be called family.  
Yuuri thought that, maybe, Victor’s parents didn’t really deserve the support Victor was giving them, but that was Victor’s call, not his, so he didn’t comment. Now that Victor has opened up a little more about his parents, Yuuri’s desire to meet them dissipated. Even though Victor said they hadn’t hurt him, that wasn’t entirely true. They had ignored him when he needed them, had failed to care for him, love him, put his needs first or even take them into consideration. As far as Yuuri was concerned, they had failed as parents, and if he never met them, and Victor never wanted to see them again, that was perfectly fine by Yuuri.  
He rested his head on Victor’s shoulder and wove their fingers together.  
“It’s okay,” he said. “I think my parents have enough love for the both of us.”  
It was true. Yuuri’s parents adored Victor more than Victor thought he deserved.  
Victor liked St. Petersburg, and it was nice to see it again, to show it to Yuuri. But the more time they spent there, the more he realized how much he really missed Hasetsu.


	13. Chapter 13

It only took paparazzi a few days to figure out which car was Victor’s, which made leaving the building unseen a little difficult. But there were other tricks up Victor’s sleeve.   
He had some anti-paparazzi clothes that reflected light in such a way that any picture taken with a flash just became whited out. If they needed to go outside for a short while, they wore the same clothes – a trick Victor had learned many years ago. It would make the pictures seem like they came from the same day, so the paparazzi couldn’t continue selling them.   
When they wanted to go somewhere unseen, they employed some more sneaky tactics. Victor rented several cars that looked exactly like his, then had someone drive them all out at the same time as he and Yuuri were leaving, and paparazzi had no way of knowing which car contained their targets as the cars all dispersed at the nearest intersection.   
Yuuri couldn’t believe Victor was wasting so much money on being able to escape paparazzi. But Victor wasn’t really doing it for himself.  
Victor didn’t really hate paparazzi, as a general rule. He’d had some unpleasant experiences with them, but he tried not to assume that every paparazzi would be bad. The only paparazzi he hated were the ones that were rude or violent and employed insults to attempt to get a reaction out of a celebrity. Many people assumed that celebrities pretended like they didn’t like the attention, that without paparazzi they’d be nothing, or that their fame obligated them to provide people with entertainment at all times and in any way possible. But most celebrities didn’t set out to be celebrities. They set out to make music or movies or do a sport. Most of the people who became famous dreamed of having people enjoy their art, they dreamed of succeeding in their chosen field. They didn’t dream of having 15 cameras flash in their faces because they had the audacity to go grocery shopping. And you couldn’t just stop being a celebrity either. You could lose relevance overtime, but you couldn’t put your fame on hold if you needed some privacy.  
When Victor was at the peak of his music career, he’s had paparazzi yell intrusive questions at him, get so close to him he couldn’t move, try to provoke him with insults, and at one point one screamed that he would kill his dog just to get a picture of his shocked face. Victor’s publicist tried to get him to press charges, but he just wanted to forget about it as soon as possible.  
So now Victor wanted to make sure that Yuuri would never have to experience something like that, so he used every trick he knew in order to protect him.  
A few times they did go out openly and without disguises to have dinner in extremely exclusive and expensive restaurants, where curtains were drawn and no one bothered them.   
One time they went to the theater, and Yuuri understood a total of about 35 words from the whole play, but it was based on a novel he’d read, so he knew the gist.   
Victor thought, in retrospect, they should have gone to the opera. Something in Italian. It wouldn’t matter then that Yuuri didn’t know the language.  
They managed a bit of sightseeing thanks to Victor’s disguises, but they didn’t risk going out too much. They spent most of their time in Victor’s apartment and in expensive restaurants, and really, they could be doing that anywhere. After about a week they got sort of...bored.   
Victor booked the nearest ice rink for a few hours, paying extra to have it closed down so no one would bother them, and they skated together. Not practicing or training, just enjoying the ice. One of the employees of the rink took a picture of them and posted it online. They weren’t even really mad when they saw it later. The photo was beautiful, if a little on the blurry side. 

“Should we just go home?” Victor asked.   
Yuuri was lying on the couch, and Victor was lying partially on top of him, with his head on Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri was running his fingers through Victor’s hair.   
“I thought you’d want to stay longer.”  
“I did too. But...well. Maybe it was wrong to come right after Nationals. Everyone suddenly remembered about me,” Victor said apologetically. “We probably wouldn’t have so many paparazzi following us if we came at a different time.”  
Yuuri wanted to reassure Victor by saying that the media attention didn’t bother him, but that wouldn’t be entirely truthful. Suddenly having cameras flashing in your eyes when you were trying to buy some water really wasn’t particularly pleasant. Still, he didn’t want Victor to feel bad.   
“I just wish a saw a bit more of the city. I haven’t seen that much.”  
Victor suddenly sat upright and his eyes sparkled in a way that Yuuri knew meant trouble.  
“Tomorrow!” he said. “Tomorrow, let’s venture out. I’ll show you where I grew up. We’ll get disguises and sneak out.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Absolutely. If we get recognized, well...it’ll be unpleasant, but at least you’ll get to actually see something other than the inside of yet another restaurant”  
Yuuri couldn’t deny that this was an exciting idea. And Victor looked so happy that he really couldn’t say no.   
“Alright, if you’re sure.”

The next day, they put on disguises, took their herd of cars out for a drive, made sure they weren’t being followed, and finally drove to the part of town where Victor had grown up.   
Yuuri had to say it was...different. Poorer, dirtier.   
The area around Victor’s apartment was, well, rich. It was clean and luxurious. St. Petersburg was largely a tourist-oriented city, but it too had poor parts where the less fortunate people lived.  
Victor parked and led the way toward a run-down building painted a pale yellow. There was a crack down the side of one of the walls.   
“This is where I went to school,” Victor said.   
They heard a bell ringing, and a few minutes later, kids poured out of the main entrance.  
“It’s still working?”  
“Apparently.”  
That building looked like it should have been closed a long time ago, but Yuuri didn’t comment on that.   
They walked down the street for a little while. Victor occasionally made comments about the buildings around them and how they’ve changed since he was last there. The pavement was uneven and cracked almost everywhere. It had rained the day before, and sometimes they would have to stop and strategize as the puddles were so big that there was no way to cross them, and they had to walk around them or jump.   
Most of the residential buildings had bars on the windows of the first floor apartments. When Yuuri asked why that was, Victor said that first floor apartments were often robbed, so people had to have bars on windows.   
There were a few buildings that stood under an angle, but people still lived in them.   
Finally, Victor stopped in front of a 3-story building and pointed at a set of windows.   
“That’s where I spent most of my childhood,” he said. “We moved here when I was 5. Before that we lived in a communal apartment. But this one was all ours – 2 bedrooms, bathroom and kitchen.” Victor smiled. “I was lucky to have my own room. A lot of kids don’t get that.” He looked over the building. “It looks much better now. There’s a metal door and everything. There used to just be a wooden one without a lock. People would come in to smoke or pee. The stairways always stunk like a public toilet at a cheap bar.”  
Victor voice sounded almost amused. His memories of his childhood weren’t particularly happy, but he tried not to let himself spin into anger and self-pity.  
Yuuri didn’t know what to say. He just stared at the windows of Victor’s old apartment for a while. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it looked like on the inside.  
“Do you know who lives there now?”  
“No. When my parents divorced they sold the apartment.” Victor looked at Yuuri, noticing that his expression was somewhere between confusion and distress. “Yuuri, are you alright?”  
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. This is just...not what I imagined.”  
Victor squeezed his hand. Yuuri’s taste of Russia up to this point mostly consisted of hotels, Victor’s penthouse and the rich area around it, expensive restaurants and some tourist spots. By comparison, Victor’s old neighborhood could be a bit shocking, but it could still be considered fairly luxurious if compared to some of the other places in Russia and other poor countries. At least these were houses with indoor plumbing, central heating, and running water most of the year. A lot of people didn’t have that. A lot of people didn’t even have homes.  
Sometimes Victor felt as though he wasn’t allowed to feel bad for himself and how he’d spent his childhood, because so many people had it so much worse. Whenever Victor felt bad for himself as a child because his friends or schoolmates had things and opportunities he didn’t have, his parents would remind him that he could be homeless and starving, so he had no right to complain. And there was truth to that, of course. But at the same time, Victor was largely very unhappy as a child, both because his family was poor, and because his parents didn’t much care for him. So the fact that someone somewhere had it worse hardly made him feel any better. In the end, Victor wasn’t always certain how he was supposed to feel. These days he’s taken to telling himself that his past was a good contrast that helped him appreciate everything he had now.  
“It’s not that bad,” Victor assured Yuuri. “St. Petersburg is a good city, really. I mean, I had a grandmother that lived in Baranovka, and my parents would send me away to live with her in the summer sometimes. It was a ‘selo’. A village, I think would be the closest word. I didn’t have any money until I started making it myself, but over there that didn’t even matter. You couldn’t buy anything. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go. It was so boring.” Victor shuddered at the memory. “Plus, the toilet was outside, and it was just a small wooden booth with a bucket in the middle. We had to get water for the day from a pump every morning. Sometimes there wouldn’t be any water though. There was exactly 1 store in a 10-kilometer radius and it sold almost nothing but bread, cigarettes, and liquor.”   
Yuuri made a mental promise to himself to never again criticize Victor for how he spent his money. He deserved to waste it any way he wanted.   
When they returned to their car, they noticed that someone had put a long scratch along the side of it.  
“Oh,” Yuuri said, because he didn’t know what else to say.   
“I think we may have been marked as outsiders,” Victor joked.   
Though Yuuri couldn’t quite tell if it was a joke or not.  
“Is that...common?”  
“I don’t think so. It’s probably because of the tinted windows. Some kids probably thought the car belongs to someone important and decided it’d be cool to mess it up.” Victor shrugged. “It’s a good thing they didn’t go for the tires.”  
They drove back to Victor’s apartment largely in silence. Yuuri was processing what he’d just seen and heard. He knew that it was, objectively, not that bad. There were worse places in the world, poorer places. But it was so difficult to imagine Victor – now-Victor, in the expensive clothes, with sunglasses that cost more that everything Yuuri was wearing – going to a school that clearly hadn’t passed the fire inspection properly in years.  
Yuuri’s perception of Victor had shifted a little. He got a new appreciation for everything Victor had achieved in life, and everything he’d experienced.   
That night, Yuuri clung a little tighter to Victor in bed, feeling protective. Victor noticed, but he didn’t comment. He hadn’t meant to make Yuuri feel sorry for him, but sometimes...he still felt sorry for himself, even if he no longer had to. So he really couldn’t blame Yuuri for the emotion. He simply hugged him back until they both fell asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

About half-way into the second week of their vacation, Yuuri finally decided to address the conversation he’d had at Nationals.   
Victor was on the couch with his tablet and a bowl of grapes. Yuuri was in an armchair besides him.   
“Victor...” he said cautiously. “I need to discuss something with you.”  
Victor immediately dropped everything, turning to face Yuuri.  
“Sounds serious.”  
“It could be. I’m not sure yet.” He took a steadying breath. “Remember Yuri Plisetsky?” He wasn’t feeling terribly encouraged by Victor’s annoyed grimace. “Well, he approached me after Nationals. He...ah. He wants me to coach him.”  
For a while, there was silence. Yuuri was growing increasingly uncomfortable as Victor just stared at him. He half-expected Victor to start laughing, but that wasn’t happening.  
“Seriously?”  
“Yes. He doesn’t like his current coach. Wants more freedom. I...” Yuuri looked at Victor, but then shifted his gaze away. “I think he approached me because he was impressed by you. Which, honestly, is not really to my credit, but that seemed to be his reasoning.”  
Now Victor laughed.   
“Wow. That punk tried to bully me for being a shitty skater, now he wants my coach? Oh, how the tables have 3-turned.”   
Yuuri rolled his eyes.   
“I’m glad you find this amusing.”  
“So...” Victor sprawled out on the couch dramatically. “You wanna do this? Coach Plisetsky?”   
“I...well...maybe?” He tried to read Victor’s emotions, but it was difficult. Victor was very good at hiding his feelings when he wanted to. “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”  
Victor felt a little insulted by the notion that Yuuri would think him so selfish, but then he realized that Yuuri probably wasn’t making any such assumptions. He just didn’t want to make Victor in any way uncomfortable.   
“Yuuri, I am proud that you’re my personal coach, but most coaches have a rink, do they not?” He smiled when Yuuri nodded almost imperceptibly. “If this is something you want to try, then maybe it’s time for you to take on another skater.”   
And now that it became a real possibility, Yuuri almost immediately began to panic.  
“Can I do it?” he said, his voice breaking a little. “I mean, he’s in the Senior division. That’s different. Can I coach you and him and the same time? Those are very different skill sets. And he’s...difficult, obviously.”  
“Whereas I’m just a piece of cake, right?”   
Yuuri let out a miserable giggle.  
“You’re less violent. Didn’t Plisetsky shatter a glass door at a hotel when he was 17 because he’d run into and got angry? You know, at the door. For being too transparent.”  
Victor tried not to laugh.  
“He’s older now.”  
“Not by much.” Yuuri was trying to get his breathing under control. “I’ve been thinking about this since he approached me. And I...want to do it, but also, it’s a lot of responsibility. He’s Russia’s favorite skating prodigy. He’s won so many medals. What if I start coaching him and he never wins again?”  
Yuuri whimpered. That was Victor’s cue to get off the coach, kneel in front of Yuuri and hold both his hands.   
“Yuuri, Yuuri, look at me. Hey, it’s okay.”   
Yuuri slid down to the floor, into Victor’s arms, and they sat there for a while until Yuuri calmed down a little.  
“I’m sorry,” he said.   
“It’s okay.” Victor rubbed his hand up and down Yuuri’s back.   
“Maybe I’m not strong enough for this. I can’t handle the pressure.”  
“I think you can handle far more than you give yourself credit for. You just handle it differently from other people.” Victor pulled back and smiled at Yuuri. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you want to coach more skaters, you can always find fresh talent. Maybe some kid in Hasetsu. You don’t have to take on Plisetsky.”  
“I think, I sort of...want to though.”  
Yuuri was terrified, but he also hated stepping away from a challenge. He’s achieved most of his success by persevering and continuing to do things that were difficult until he mastered them. Coaching Plisetsky was a challenge. An utterly horrifying challenge, but a part of Yuuri knew that if he didn’t try, he would regret it forever. Besides, it wasn’t every day that an extremely talented star asked you to be their coach. Though, admittedly, it happened to Yuuri with surprising regularity.   
“Okay,” Victor said. “I hope he’s willing to move to Japan. Because I miss Hasetsu so much I almost want to cry.”  
Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh. He wrapped his arms around Victor, feeling lighter now that he knew what he was going to do.   
“Ah,” he exhaled as the realization of what he was getting himself into was starting to sink in. “I have to call him now. I hope he still actually wants me as his coach. Maybe he’s found someone better.”  
“There is no one better,” Victor said matter-of-factly. “You don’t have to call right away. It’s kind of late anyway.”  
“True.” He looked up at the clock. It was indeed a little too late to be polite to call. It made him relax a little to know that he didn’t need to deal with a potentially stressful situation right away, even though it just meant he’s still have to deal with it later.  
“So,” Victor said, getting off the floor and offering a hand to help Yuuri up. “We only have a few days left here. Anything you want to do? There are still a few restaurants we haven’t graced with our paparazzi-infested presence.”   
Yuuri giggled, causing Victor to beam happily.   
“Maybe we could just stay in? Cook something together. We still have some food left that we probably shouldn’t leave behind.”  
Victor’s smile only grew wider.  
“Of course! But you know, we could be doing that anywhere.”  
“We could be going to restaurants anywhere.” Yuuri shrugged.  
“True.”  
“Let’s go to a museum tomorrow?”  
“Perfect!” Victor exclaimed, even though he had no particular interest in museums. He just liked going on adventures with Yuuri, not matter how small. “I’ll check online what our options are. You go start dinner.”  
“By ‘go start dinner’ you mean I’ll cook most of it, and you’ll sprinkle some parsley on top of it in the end and call that participation?”  
“You know me so well,” Victor said, planting a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.   
Yuuri rolled his eyes with a smile and went into the kitchen to see what he could make, while Victor pulled out his laptop and set it on the counter so Yuuri could see what he was browsing. As predicted, Yuuri did most of the cooking, but Victor found them some good options for the next day’s outing, and cleaned the dishes after dinner.  
There were many advantages to living in Yu-topia, but both Yuuri and Victor were starting to think that this – living together, just the two of them – certainly seemed very appealing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will be a fairly short outro, which I honestly could/should have stuck at the end of this one, but I'm extremely OCD about numbers, so I had to make it a separate chapter. Sorry about that.


	15. Chapter 15

Yuuri decided to call Plisetsky in the morning, before doing anything else. Otherwise, he’d spend all day worrying about it. This way, whichever way it went, he’d have the rest of the day to distract him from overanalyzing it.   
Victor sat next to Yuuri on the coach as Yuuri stared at his phone. He was stealing himself. He put the phone on speaker and finally pushed the dial button. It was a good 20 seconds before he got the answer, and he almost thought he wouldn’t get one at all.  
“Yes?” Yuri answered the call in English because the number was foreign.  
“Hello, this is Katsuki Yuuri. We’ve spoken–”  
“I know who you are,” Yuri said. “Have you decided?”  
“I have. If you still want me to coach you, I’m up for it.”  
“Good.”  
“There’s a condition though.”  
“What?”  
“Are you willing to move to Hasetsu, Japan? That’s where I’ve been training Victor.”  
“Wouldn’t Victor want to come back here? If you’re training 2 Russian skaters, it makes sense to do it in Russia, no?”  
“I vote Hasetsu,” Victor chimed in.   
“Why?” Plisetsky said with a groan.  
Victor considered for a moment to crack some kind of joke, but this was potentially a very important moment, so he decided to just go with honesty.   
“Because I don’t have to worry about getting swarmed by paparazzi there. Because we don’t have to share the rink with other athletes. Because there’s a hot spring. Because I like it there. Because it’s Yuuri’s home, and frankly, it is mine too now.”   
Yuri was silent for a while, considering. He didn’t really want to move, but he had moved before, and if he had to, he would again. He wanted a new coach because he wanted a change. Maybe moving would actually be a good idea.   
“Fine,” he said. “When do we leave?”   
“Ah...” Yuuri hadn’t expected things to go quite so quickly. “We were planning to go back in a few days, but you don’t have to come right away. You can take some time to get your things in order, talk to your coach.”  
“She knew I’d be leaving sooner or later, we hugged it out, we’re good,” he deadpanned. “Just tell me when you’re leaving, so I can be ready by then.”  
“I’ll get you a ticket on the same plane as us,” Victor offered. “We’ll text you the details.”  
“Fine,” Yuri said. “Thanks.”   
Then he hung up.   
“Well, that went well,” Yuuri said, turning to Victor.  
“Congratulations, Yuuri,” Victor said, nuzzling Yuuri’s neck. “You got yourself another skater.” 

There were advantages to being Russia’s favorite skating prodigy. Among other things, Yuri got all his travel documents done in a fraction of the time it would have taken otherwise.   
He hadn’t initially planned to leave so abruptly. In fact, he hadn’t planned to leave at all, assuming that he would continue training in Russia, but the idea of leaving was growing on him now. This was going to be a new start in his career. This coming season would be something else. If he could train for it someplace private, where no one knew him – well, that added a nice dramatic flare that wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome. 

On their last day in St. Petersburg, Yuuri and Victor walked along the embankment again. Then they packed, said goodbye to Victor’s apartment, and went to the airport.  
It wasn’t as bittersweet as Victor had imagined it would be. This time in his hometown made him realize that after many years of loneliness, he finally had a home. And it wasn’t in his St. Petersburg penthouse, or his house in LA, or his parent’s old apartment. It was anywhere Yuuri was, however cliché that might be. If Yuuri wanted to stay in St. Petersburg, Victor wouldn’t mind. If Yuuri wanted to move to some place Victor had never heard of before, that would be quite alright as well. But right now, Yuuri was looking forward to coming back to his own hometown, and Victor couldn’t wait. Because Victor had grown quite fond of Hasetsu. And if Yuuri would agree to spend the rest of their lives there, well, that would be just perfect.   
Yuuri had enjoyed this trip, but he was also glad it was over. The best part of it had been learning new things about Victor and his past, even if those things weren’t always pleasant. Now Yuuri couldn’t wait to take Victor back to Hasetsu, where they had a home and a loving family. Yuuri had every intention of spending the rest of his life making sure Victor knew that he was loved. 

They met Yuri at the airport and boarded the flight together. Victor and Yuuri had neighboring seats, Yuri was behind them.   
It was a long flight, and they all had an even longer journey ahead of them. There would be many things that would need figuring out – new schedules, new rules, where Yuri would live, what his new programs would be, if it was possibly time for Victor and Yuuri to move out of Yu-topia and find their own place.   
But for now, they were up in the air. For a while, no problems could be solved, no decisions needed to be made. For a few hours, life was put on hold, and there was nothing but clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it. ^_^  
> Thank you so much for sticking with me to the end! Special thanks to those who commented - I really appreciate that you'd taken the time to do so. :)  
> I'm not sure how many people are interested, but yes, there will be a part 3.  
> It will be a bit more...involved, let's say. There will be more of an ensemble cast, several original characters, as well as more focus on a few of the canon characters. Since Yuri is entering the cast, there will be a split between adult and Senior divisions. It will be all fairly intertwined at first, but the second half, specifically, will be rather Yuri-centric. There will be Otayuri (aged-up, obviously). Sorry to anyone who's not a fan of the ship, but there will be a fairly obvious shift in focus, so you can read the first half and then just leave for the parts you don't want.  
> I estimate the fic to be in the vicinity of 35 chapters (though most of them will be short-ish).   
> I'm not quite ready to start posting it yet, but I don't expect the break to be very long, so if you're interested, please, stay tuned.  
> Thank you again for reading! ^_^


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